“Wait wait wait. Slow down.” I hear her turn off the music in the background. I explain it to her again. “Shane from Saturday?”

“Yeah,” I whisper. Blink fast, to battle the tears.

“Wait, she’s in that OR?”

“She came through here a…” Was it hours? Days? Seconds? “a while ago.”

“*****, baby. I’ll be there in a half hour. Is she gonna be okay?”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. “I dunno.”

“Okay, I’m leaving now.”

“Okay.” I hang up the phone. I sit there until the list of phone extensions in front of me blurs. Residents walk past, white coats. Okay. I don’t know. My eyes have unfocused altogether.

I pick up the phone again. “OR,” C.J. says.

“Hey. It’s Darah.”

“Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Um, can you have Dr. Rowan page me the instant McCutcheon gets out of surgery?”

“Sure. Anyone else down there?”

“No. It’s quiet.”

How is she, I wanna say. Because you’re closer to her than I am. You’re up there, and I’m not. Are they still working on her?

Is she still alive? Breathing, that same breath that made her chest shake when I touched her, same breath that woke me this morning, warm on my back?

“Okay, I’ll call you.”

I want to ask her, is Shane still breathing, but she’s hung up, and it’s too late.

Darrell is standing in front of me. “How you doing?”

Ask the easy questions, Darrell. “I’m cool,” I say, because it’s the first phrase I think of.

“You up for giving a tetanus shot?”

“Sure.” He hands me a doctor’s order and a vial. Smart to give it directly to me. Avoid a med error. I’m surely a danger in my current mental state.

“You sure?”

“I got it. Lou’s on her way.”

The shot is for a teenage girl who fell on glass. Giving the actual shot takes two seconds. The parents stare at me, wondering, no doubt, about my red eyes. I sheath the needle, drop it into the box, and leave as soon as I put a Band-Aid on.

I gave the shot without incident, but it takes me a long time to chart. I have to check the lot number on the vial three times. When was Shane’s last tetanus shot? Would she know to get one every ten years?

I sit back down at the nurses’ station. Lou, where are you? I need you here, so I can fall apart.

I pick up the phone again, and dial Jenny. No answer. “Jen, it’s Darah. I need you to call me in the ER ASAP, okay, just tell them to page me as soon as you get this.” 555-7610.”

I stare at the phone in my hand. What’s Alice’s number?

She picks up on the fourth ring. “Hello, this is Alice.” Silly newscaster’s voice.

“Al, it’s Darah. Shane was shot.”

“What?” she shrieks, sounding like a different person. “Where? Is she okay?”

That question again.

“I dunno. She’s at my hospital. She’s lost a lot of blood, and-”

“Oh my god, I’m on my way.”

“Al, don’t tell anyone else yet. I mean it.” I think Shane would want it this way. As it is I’m already breaking federal confidentiality laws by telling her.

“Okay, I’m leaving now.”

Max, the clerk, comes over and stares at me. “What’s wrong with you?”

I stare at him. What is he talking about? He’s been here all shift. But then I realize that he has a drink from the cafeteria in his hand, and I realize that he must have been on a break. And it’s only 9:15. A little over an hour since Shane was brought in here.

I don’t say a word to Max. It’s as if I’ve become aphasic, language centers of my brain shutting down. He starts to look concerned. Then the phone rings, and he finally takes his gaze off of me to answer it.

“She’s right here,” he says. “Hold on.” He holds the phone out to me.

“The OR,” he says.